Pranksters, Meet My Food Baby. I Call Him Frank.

I popped out my crotch parasites well before most of my friends had steady boyfriends (birth control failure FTW!) because I like to win at life. See also: failed birth control.

Once I’d popped out the first crotch parasite, I realized that what I really wanted to do was to pop out more. I’m not saying my logic was failproof or anything (see also: birth control) but I knew I wanted my first kid to have siblings. What can I say? I’m a sentimentalist.

(outright lie)

But I wanted the kid to have siblings, and luckily, he did. Five years later, out popped Alex, and two years after that came Amelia. Which means I have a fuck of a lot of kids, but alas, I digress.

That meant, of course, that I spent my twenties in Fug-Ville. While my friends were out being cute and sexy, I ranged in size from “Is she fat or pregnant” to “that girl looks like Grimace… only not purple.” Postpartum thyroid issues piled even MORE pounds onto my already chunky frame, which lasted approximately until their first birthday. Which = two years of Grimace per baby.

What I’m SAYING, Pranksters, is that I’m a sexy, sexy pregnant woman. You can call me Pregnasaurus Bex if you’d like. I don’t mind.

So now that I’ve gotten done with crotch parasites, I’m returning to the “OMG CUTE CLOTHES” and “UNDERWEAR THAT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A SHIP’S SAIL” walk of life. Just in time to watch my friends obsess about every little pregnancy symptom or complaint.

I swear to you, Pranksters, everyone I know is gestating. Their Facebook profiles all show blurby ultrasound images of fetuses (fetii?) and updates include all the stats from each doctor’s appointment. It makes me GLAD I’m no longer gestating since my stats would look like:

Weight: *breaks scale*

BP: Non-existent

Measuring: 40 weeks pregnant at 10 weeks.

What Baby Is Doing: Some various state of fruit.

Pretty much, you’d be bored even MORE shitless than you are by my mediocre blog. (my autocorrect wants to change “shitless” to “shirtless” which is actually awesomer.)

However, I feel kinda left out. I mean, I’d rather suck on an icepick than get knocked up again, but still, I want the opportunity to complain about my swollen feet and ginormous rack. Unless I have a Love Child, it ain’t happening.

Luckily, I’m crafty. I came up with a BETTER solution.

Pranksters, let me be the first to announce that I’m having a food baby. His name is Frank.

He’s gonna be a soccer player.

Also: who wants to throw me a baby shower? I can TOTALLY feel him kicking!

Such a cute little frank, I wish my baby updates were cute and cuddle but they are more barfy and gassy. Maybe soon, you’re pretty fucking brave however to post yourself in a bra, not happening her the stretchmarks might scare people into never returning!

I iz done having kids. Four in six years is enough. It was supposed to be three in six years, but the third turned out to be third & fourth. No more pregnancy updates from me! Especially since hubby did the snip-snip thing. And he shot a zero at his post-op check last week, so it would be an unholy miracle were we to conceive again.

Well, he can have play dates with my “dude I’m on like 3 different psyche meds at any given time and have had 3 babies” baby. We’ll call him Geo. It’s short for Geodon. I have to watch every bite and exercise to maintain weight. Which is better than the one that had me craving carbs like it was Oxygen.

I KNEW IT!!!! You’re secretly a sexy bitch! Ugh. Now I have to hate you. (But secretly still love you). I’m stinking my tongue out at you while thinking about doing some crunches in the very near future…..or just not ever eating again. thanks a lot.

I’m adding to the gestational chain…though I agree. EVERYONE is having babies…I have no idea what happened last year, but I guess it was good…or there was an overabundance of surprises/accidents (my category)

Is there gonna be a shower because I hate showers, but your shower would be fun because for once we could get the preggo drunk as fuck. Plus? Drunk preggo. Oh, and drunk preggo. Also, drunk during labor! Think of the opportunities for awesome video footage of the “birth.”

And the announcements? Holy Hell. Sign me up for God Mother. I’m all in for Frank’s christening. I can do this.

Yeah I’m fertile with food babies. I have nose problems so I breathe most of my air from my mouth which means I acumulate a lot of air when I eat…..which in turn makes me look 5 months pregnant when I’m full of food! The funny part is, my stomac’s normal state is mostly flat so people who have seen me with a food baby a week ago give me funny, desaprouving looks when they see me the next!

Ha. I totally know what you mean. My friends are just getting married and here I am with two kids (wanting, one day, a third). I imagine I’ll be finishing up my gestating just as they’re getting started. Also, you don’t look like you’re having a food baby at all. Maybe its just because I’m having Burrito Twins.

Congratulations! Oooh… and I can set you up with cute little soccer outfits and soccer shoes for food baby Frank. He will be totally adorable (of course — like you can produce anything but adorableness).

I think you just made me pee, a lot. First off “crotch parasite” is my new favorite term ever. Secondly, the “various stage of fruit” struck close to home, I see at least 5 facebook updates a day telling me that so-and-sos baby is the size of a kumquat.

So yesterday Anna wanted to know who Aunt Becky was and why I wanted to take a picture of her in my With The Band Shirt. I went to your blog to find the video of you and Amelia to show her, and she saw this picture. She said, “I wish I could be that skinny!!” She apparently does not notice Frank.